My Childhood Heaven

A Memory of Goytre.

In the late 1800's my Grandmother's sister, Minnie came from Bristol to work at Goytre House. She was soon followed by another sister Hannah and my grandmother Annie both of whom worked at Maesyberrin, the doctor's house in Goytre village. Both Hannah and Annie married and lived in Goytre until they died. Annie's husband William was the local milkman and the couple moved into Coalbrook Cottage only moving as their family grew to Parc Bach, near the Goytre Canal. Grandfather in his early forties developed dropsy so the family moved yet again this time to the newly built Park View in the village. One year late grandfather died leaving Annie with six children at home, the youngest still a baby. In those days there was no widow's pension or in fact, help from any source.
Annie successfully raised all seven of her children and it was her proud boast that all her children had their own boots to wear to school. In many homes this was not the case and children often only went to school on a rota basis often with brown paper stuffed in the shoes to cover the holes.


Added 05 November 2014

#336904

Comments & Feedback

I have very happy memories of staying with my Gran, Violet Fryer and and my Great Uncle Herbert Morgan at The Gwyneth In Goytre. The house was at that time pretty basic by today's standards, but with an enormous range and fire places it always felt like home. (there was ice on the insides of the windows in winter, but the beds were made of down and we had those old fashioned feather quilts and blankets!)
There were no modern appliances, no fridge,, just a pantry with stone tops that kept groceries cool.

I am pretty sure that my gran did the washing in an old 'copper' and mangle in an outhouse that used to be the dairy.

The garden was mostly set out for fruit and veg. Herbert spent all his time in the veg plot. I can remember being sent to pick 'Japanese berries', which I now think must have been redcurrants.

We used to have stuffed marrows, with veg and sausage.

We went off to Abergavenny in an old light blue Vauxhall Viva to get the shopping each week from the market.

We got milk and eggs and the odd chicken from the Powells, who lived at the Gelli (farm) next door. I always thought that they lived even more primitively than we did.

Uncle Herbert never really wanted to speak to me, although my brother has said that he did like to play chess with him.

Knowing what I know now, I think Herbert suffered shell shock from the first world war and I so wish I had got to know him as an adult and not just dismissed him as a miserable old devil.

I remember the lovely garden, the rhododendron arched path and the stream. Very happy times

I hope it hasn't all been dug up and redeveloped.

Ruth
I have very happy memories of staying with my Gran, Violet Fryer and and my Great Uncle Herbert Morgan at The Gwyneth In Goytre. The house was at that time pretty basic by today's standards, but with an enormous range and fire places it always felt like home. (there was ice on the insides of the windows in winter, but the beds were made of down and we had those old fashioned feather quilts and blankets!)
There were no modern appliances, no fridge,, just a pantry with stone tops that kept groceries cool.

I am pretty sure that my gran did the washing in an old 'copper' and mangle in an outhouse that used to be the dairy.

The garden was mostly set out for fruit and veg. Herbert spent all his time in the veg plot. I can remember being sent to pick 'Japanese berries', which I now think must have been redcurrants.

We used to have stuffed marrows, with veg and sausage.

We went off to Abergavenny in an old light blue Vauxhall Viva to get the shopping each week from the market.

We got milk and eggs and the odd chicken from the Powells, who lived at the Gelli (farm) next door. I always thought that they lived even more primitively than we did.

Uncle Herbert never really wanted to speak to me, although my brother has said that he did like to play chess with him.

Knowing what I know now, I think Herbert suffered shell shock from the first world war and I so wish I had got to know him as an adult and not just dismissed him as a miserable old devil.

I remember the lovely garden, the rhododendron arched path and the stream. Very happy times

I hope it hasn't all been dug up and redeveloped.

Ruth

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